Footfalls
by DarkHiems-hime
Summary: One day on the life of one Grimmjaw Jaggerjack in Las Noches. Or two. GrxOC
1. Footfalls

**Summary: **One day on the life of one Grimmjaw Jaggerjack in Las Noches.

**Disclaimer: **Nope, don't own Bleach. But we can all dream, right?

**Reason: **It isn't usual for me to write one shots, but I wanted to practise descriptions, personifications, confrontations and a few serious scenes and/or speeches. And yeah, it was fun to write this one using our favourite Sexta Espada and my own personal Arrancar xD

**Warnings: **It's rated M for a reason. Includes rape, violence and adult situations. It's not heavy on spoilers, but includes the whole betrayal deal and the Arrancar arc up till Inoue's part of it as well. Other than that, there aren't any, really.

* * *

BLEACH

_**Footfalls  
**_  
BLEACH

Soft footsteps were heard in the dark, ominous corridor, echoing through several hundreds of feet and reaching uncaring ears. Uncaring, like everything else in Las Noches was. But uncaring didn't mean that they weren't heard nevertheless.

Grimmjaw lazily made his way back to his private rooms after the Espada's last useless meeting with Aizen-_sama_. Whatever had been the issue this time, he no longer remembered. Something along the lines of the odd, but amazing abilities that human girl had, since Ulquiorra had talked about it once or twice after his last encounter with her. That coming to mind, the blue-eyed Arrancar flexed his left arm in response, thankfully restored. Weird not having a limb, the lack of balance. Tch. Not that it mattered. After all, he'd still defeat that Shinigami… If only la Cuarta Espada had kept his tiny, pale nose on his own business, that is.

Black clad, sandaled feet turned a corner. Aizen-"sama"'s private rooms occupied the whole next hall, or so it was said. He didn't know, never went there, nor did he want to. If it happened, whoever came in never came out unscathed. But then again, said corridor only had one single door that did lead to the former captain's quarters. Nevertheless, beyond it, it was the Espadas', his current destination.

Though as soon as his sandal touched the floor of that hall, he paused, hues searching. Someone was near. Teal eyebrows furrowed in an absent way once he spotted a black lump near the tall, double doors. His shoulders relaxed; he had feared it might be Tousen. Probably to annoy him about not existing any justice in his passing by Aizen-sama's door or some stupid fucking shit like that, using the excuse to cut his head off if the man had the chance.

Yet, the being he sensed and spotted was nothing alike the dark skinned ex Shinigami. It was surely an Arrancar. And for an Arrancar, the presence was fairly weak in fact.

As Grimmjaw approached, it became clearer why their reiatsu felt that weak. Blood. It had spread all over the floor, forming a growing pool of the substance on, beneath and around the figure. It took him a few more steps forward and the fact that he was almost standing across it for whoever it was to raise their head.

The skin was almost sickly pale, even more so due to the blood caked to it. Their right eye was a light, yet sparkly blue, but the left one was emerald green, lively and shining with silent humiliation and defiance.

Flowing black hair tumbled till half way down their back, almost violet in colour among the dark environment, set in dishevelled, but seemingly perfect-looking ringlets. The remains of the hollow mask covered a small part of the left cheek bone and the front left bangs, which were left to peek under it, half covered the whole left part of their features.

And "it" was obviously a female, if the figure, even slumped and trying to make itself unnoticed, had anything to do with it. Her face still had delicate lines, her hands were still slender and her curvy hips and breasts were hard not to notice.

Perhaps stopping for a bit wouldn't be such a bad idea. "What are ya doing here… onna."

She seemed to flinch at the sound of his voice. Then again, maybe she was just rearranging her position. "Waiting for Aizen-dono." Her own voice held signs of being rather hoarse. That made his previous question-in-a-statement sound like a shout.

But it didn't surprise him. The weakest were always made a punching bag out of for the strongest ones. If this one didn't fit to serve a real purpose – Aizen's purpose -, if she wasn't strong enough, she could always be killed and no one would notice or care; or even serve as a sex toy while that didn't happen.

For everything that was said about him, Aizen-sama was known for taking, but never giving, enjoying and indulging in the pleasure of causing pain to others. All he truly cared for was his power, and that the Espada took care of any request he had for them and kept bowing to him.

Simple as that.

Also, seeing as this one was beaten and bloody just outside said man's dorms, it seemed obvious what she had been doing and would still do there once he called her again.

Although, the meeting had lasted a good two hours. And Aizen-sama was sure to take his time drinking his tea while talking to Ichimaru and even Tousen.

He had time.

Leaning down at the waist fluidly to catch a firm, harsh grip on her wrist, Grimmjaw hauled her up almost effortlessly despite her almost soundless gasp of protest. With no further explanation whatsoever, the Espada merely dragged her off along the corridor, ignoring her stumbling and vain pulls to retrieve her own wrist back and slight struggling. But a stronger pull on his part and the tightening of his grip stopped her attempts immediately.

Once they reached his own quarters, he opened the door, half throwing her in and almost making her lose her balance in the process. His eyes narrowed a bit at the pitiful sight. _Tch. Weakling… _"Your name, onna."

"Reva." Her eyes, now clearly shining with dread, were glued to the floor, near her own feet.

"Ya know who I am?"

"La Sexta Espada… Grimmjaw Jaggerjack." His lips curled up at her use of his position as well. She seemed to be smarter than she looked like after all, he'd give her that.

"Then ya also know ya should obey me if ya want to keep all your limbs intact, ne." his smirk intensified as her eyes rose to glare at him silently, a bit of the fire he had seen previously returning to their mismatched nature. But all she dared to do was pull her robes instinctively closer to her own self. Still, she knew that to be the truth, of course. Everyone did.

Nevertheless, she mustered up the courage to find her voice and finally use it, now louder, clearer. Obviously uncomfortable, as well as pissed, "Aizen-dono should be coming-"

Just as the other took two threatening steps forward, teal eyes hardening in response to her words, she fell silent. The smaller Arrancar put some more distance between them, but it wasn't long till her back hit the wall. In an attempt to escape from his apparent wrath, the female flattened herself against the smooth surface as much as possible.

Grimmjaw paused, the smirk returning to his features. His nostrils flared, picking up the heavy scent of her fear permeating the room. His jacket was the first item to go as he let a quiet chuckle escape his throat. "On the bed, onna."

That careless gesture as well as the words brought what seemed to be a shudder from her. Those hues pleaded for the inexistent mercy on his part, for him to just roll his eyes at her ridiculous behaviour and growl and hit her, then send her away.

But that wasn't on the Espada's mind if his actions meant anything. Telling him to stay put and not do a thing while that fucking Shinagami was on and about around Hueco Mundo after he got away from a painful death, not once, but twice by his own hand, that was far too much. He'd only feel satisfied when he saw the light and fire in the boy's eyes fade with his life as his blood spreads on the floor. In the least, that is. Therefore, after Aizen's reprimand, he seriously needed to take his mind off of that. What better way to do that than to just give in to carnal urges and physical pleasure?

The meaningful look he sent her finally originated the right response on her part. Forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other, she took one, then two steps in the bed's direction, sitting down on it gingerly and firmly closing her legs.

On his part, the Sexta Espada wasted no time to step forward, reaching to the back of her head to fist a large portion of her curls in his large hand and pull her head back harshly. His tongue swept over his lips before he licked her right cheek on a whim along a thin cut he found there. Her right eye closed in response since it stung and before he had another idea about what to do in such a position while there was such little distance between them, she turned her face away from him as much as she could due to his grip on her hair, her other eye closing as well. With the movement, against her will, his lips were now just beside her ear.

Taking that chance to bite down not so gently on her lobe, he whispered almost languidly, "Take off your clothes."

Her hues snapped open once more. They shined with self-hatred, denial, refusal, humiliation, all mixing in turn. Yet, this time she didn't need a second warning to do as he wished for fear that something worse happened.

He took a step back to give her the space needed, the pleased grin on his lips again, "Be careful, onna. I warned ya once already, I won't do it again. And yeah, do it slowly."

Loath joined the swarm of emotions dancing in her odd eyes, along with fear. And she did value her existence, didn't she?

The death grip on her partially ripped garments relaxed as she put her arms down and reached for the hastily tied obi. Once the long, white strip of soft cloth fluttered silently to the floor, she parted her haori with just the slightest bit of hesitation.

Her figure was surely a nice one to be seen: the hole that declared she was still a hollow, a soulless being, was located just under her collarbone – not as big as his own in his abdomen, he noticed – breasts not too big, nor too small, her stomach smooth and flat. Even though her skin was marred with cuts, some still bleeding, and nasty looking bruises. Looked like Aizen was all but gentle with her.

She got to her feet a bit slower. Without the obi and also due to the change of position, the black hakama fell in a pool around her ankles. The same kind of bruises and wounds covered the pale, otherwise flawless skin of her legs. And the sight of those bare long limbs and curvy hips were enough for him to lick his lips once more in satisfaction over his choice.

Just as she was about to sit back down, thighs still firmly closed, he reached out, cupping the back of her neck with just enough pressure, both to let her know he wanted her there now and to let an unfulfilled threat in the air: he could very well use that same hand, those same long fingers, to snap her frail neck whenever he felt like it. "Undress me as well."

Reva suppressed a shiver of repulsion when feeling his skin on hers. _Damn him…_ It wasn't in her nature to be this way, so obedient, so submissive. But both Aizen and Grimmjaw were much, much stronger. She couldn't, wouldn't dare disobey them or any other of her superiors. That would very well mean her death.

Normally, she was rebel, simply cared about her own self, perfecting her techniques, getting stronger and keeping low while doing it. As simple as that. She called the shots, the lower ranked Arrancar or weaker ones obeyed.

But not in her superiors' dorms. She could not revert back to her usual nature. She had to bow, be silent and take what they gave or did to her with no smart ass comeback, lest they handle her even more roughly than they already do.

Being so, that was the sole reason why she was doing this so willingly. Willingly looking, that is. She couldn't, on the other hand, say she thought the Sexta Espada was unattractive. Iie. But even if he didn't need to resource to rape to get someone on his bed, she could tell why he was doing it.

Control. The need to feel he still had power over something. Even if it was just over her. Like Aizen had over everyone else, including him. In that small detail, they both had the same opinion.

Nevertheless, she focused on her work: not getting even more injured. Aizen enjoyed using his zanpakutou during their trysts, but she was almost sure Grimmjaw would do with being just harsh and rough; it was written in his eyes.

After he had carefully placed the scabbard holding his own zanpakutou on the nearest chair, her hands – shaking slightly at being forced to do something of this kind – started to slowly untie the black clothe of his obi.

"Why were ya dressed in a… Shinigami Shihakushou, onna?" the sneer on his lips when saying that word was evident, even if she wasn't looking up at him.

"Aizen-dono… When back in Seireitei, Aizen-dono was fascinated by his fukutaichou, Hinamori Momo. According to him, I'm as _petite_ as her." She growled out the word their "Lord" often used to justify himself with gritted teeth. "He enjoys pretending I'm her."

Grimmjaw caught on to the hatred on the other's voice. She was arrogant, this one. Not enjoying pretending to be someone else, loving herself. And by the looks of it, she loved the sound of her own voice as well. Amusing.

The silky cloth fell to the floor with the quietest whoosh. The white hem of his hakama slackened around his hips, barely staying in place. And with a last, foreboding sigh, she reached out a hand to pull them down with a tug, watching the item fall on top of its respective sash. Her eyes closed tight and even tighter when cold fingers trailed down her stomach.

"Yeah, you're smart, I'll give ya that." Those same fingers ran back up and around her back to fist the curls at her nape yet again, just a fraction below painful, "I could allow you a bit of pleasure."

Her eyes snapped back to his with just a hint of inner curiosity, apprehension still being the dominant emotion written there. The Espada grinned darkly at the reaction, "Six minutes. Do as you wish." Six, because it was his own number. And the one he most preferred.

He was allowing her six minutes of partial freedom so that she didn't hurt herself so much? In front of him, of course. Her pale cheeks reddened in embarrassment. _How dare he mock me so? Bloody son of a bitch… _Her eyes narrowed once more, lacking their usual effect because of the not so discreet flush. _You'll pay for this, Grimmjaw Jaggerjack._ But she didn't dare saying this to his face. She wasn't an idiot and she did want to live after this.

Resignedly, Reva turned around to face the bed. She forced her still-in-denial body to cooperate with her mind and climbed onto the bed, sitting down on it with her back to him. The female decided to try her luck; maybe he wouldn't say anything if she kept her position and went on her business-

"On your back and facing me, onna."

-or maybe not. Kuso.

Shooting him another deserved, hard glare, she obeyed, shuddering and cringing inwardly as she slowly parted her thighs to his hungry gaze.

Watching her conflicting emotions try to accommodate one another in her hues, Grimmjaw leaned against the bed post, almost casually, the smirk never quite leaving his lips.

The lower Arrancar closed her eyes, thanking whatever sick god that was watching over her when the other said nothing about it. _It's easier this way, at least._ In her mind, she concentrated on the task of pleasing herself alone and, even if it was just for a few short moments, she even managed to forget where she really was.

A small sense of gratitude for the Sexta Espada crossed her mind once she noticed he had been right: if not for her ministrations, she'd be completely dry. But that thought was thoroughly crushed in the next nanosecond. _He's probably enjoying this more than I am._

His tongue ran over pale lips one more time as teal eyes watched her impishly, shamelessly. She seemed to have forgotten him in her personal pleasure and looked as if she was enjoying herself.

But as interesting as it was, Grimmjaw wasn't known for his patience, quite the contrary. And those six minutes should be up anyways. And if they weren't, he wasn't in the mood to care right now and in such situation.

He climbed onto the bed, by her side, not wanting to disturb her. Yet. Once he decided he was in the best position, the Espada slanted his head and captured her slightly parted lips with his in a harsh kiss. Against his smirking mouth, he felt her stiffening and saw her eyes snap open, sudden surprise, confusion and alarm shining in their depths.

Just as she was about to turn her head away to break the forceful kiss, he got a hold of her chin. Pressing his fingertips into her jaw line none too gently, she was forced to part her lips further more with a painful whimper. He took the chance to plunge his tongue into her mouth, just to make his point across that it didn't matter if she didn't want it; he'd do it if he so wanted to.

The next couple of moments and the movements that followed them were too fast for Reva to process them all in a row. _Sonido?_ She only saw the mattress, which suddenly met her face in an uncomfortable manner, though not painful. She only felt cold hands on her skin and then, then her mind immediately decided to restart working as the now somewhat familiar pain between her thighs intensified tenfold. Her lips parted once more in a silent scream, eyes wide.

The Sexta Espada grinned, feeling her pain and using it as his own aphrodisiac. His hands fell from her slender shoulders, one stopping to hold a hip, the other grasping a handful of her locks, pulling her head back sharply. Under his grip, he could feel her shivering, either from repulsion or pleasure, he didn't really care to know.

He pulled back from her only to push back in again, her dampness both helping and urging the movement. His fingers dug into the soft skin of her hip mercilessly as his own moved in a steady rhythm. He had given her no time to adjust; he settled for a harsh and not so slow pace, straight to the point. Because simply, that was how he was. How he was supposed to be, in a way.

Reva fisted handfuls of the silky covers as the male did his work, her head dipped low. Her teeth gritted together when she felt a rebellious moan at the back of her throat. It hurt, it hurt a whole lot, but it was pleasurable as well at some point. Now that she was getting more used to the feeling of him and his ruthless rhythm, that pleasure was starting to be finally felt.

It wasn't welcome. But it was there.

Such as the feeling that was slowly working its way up her wounded body. Slow, but steady.

The fingers tangled into her hair tightened their hold even more as Grimmjaw felt her climax, a low, long moan following her spasms and delicate shivering of her spine. Despite the pleasing feeling, he pulled back from her. Just before her arms collapsed under her own dead weight, strong hands clasped over her shoulders, swiftly turning her around to lie on her back once more.

The female Arrancar, still gasping for breath, made quiet sounds of protest while trying in vain to close her legs and push him away, her eyes showing her tiredness and soreness already, but far too tight long fingers wrapping around her fragile neck brought her back to reality just as fast, the adrenaline flowing back into her system in a blink of an eye.

The feeling of being restrained in such a way combined with the lack of oxygen were getting to her, waking up her Hollow side and causing her to gasp and gag pitifully, her tiny hands clawing at his arms, eyes and mouth wide open.

It was one of the downsides of being part Hollow. In tighter situations such as these, basic instincts kicked in immediately. And right now, the only coherent thoughts in her mind were of the _Let go! Let me go, let me go, let me go!!_ kind.

The Sexta Espada saw those same thoughts swim just beneath the surface of her odd irises, "Don't fall asleep on me, onna. I'm not done yet." With that message clear, his grip went lax, allowing her to gasp in the much needed air, the thin, flimsy fingers of her hand grasping his tick wrist still, before she finally let go.

The teal-haired Arrancar, still smirking, adjusted their new position, one hand holding both of hers over her head, his free one holding the back of her right knee so that her leg was partially bended and levelled up. With one smooth thrust, he was inside her again, stretching her painfully once more, resuming the previous pace and not holding back any.

The new angle allowed him to touch her in the very place he seriously wasn't supposed to touch. A place that made her feel like screaming "Stop!" and "Don't stop!" right at the same time, whether he was a rapist or a lover. And after one rougher, harsher movement, it finally brought up that horrid word to her bloodied lips, "Please…"

Sharp, merciless blue eyes caught hers in an unspeakable look, holding her there, his reiatsu washing over her and overloading her already sensitive senses, warning her of the quite clear issue of talking. But at that moment, she was well beyond caring, he could see it in her expression, her eyes, her held-back mewls. She needed release, more than he himself seemed to need. So, another smirk curled his lips upwards, "You're in no conditions of asking a damn thing… Reva."

"Please just do it." Another strangled moan sounded since the hand currently on her neck was not letting all the air pass through. It had to be the way he had said her name that made her say it. "Just fuck me." A small cry escaped her as the grip tightened again, impossibly tight.

"Don't give me orders." Grimmjaw growled at the back of his throat. He released her sore neck in order to pull her lifted leg higher and closer. Despite her words translating exactly what he was doing then, hearing them almost made him remember his daily life of taking orders. And that was why he was doing this in the first place. And the woman didn't have any right of reminding him of that.

He held nothing back, his reiatsu following the same route as it snapped near and around them every now and then. Anything the female had been able to hold back up till that point was throw out of the window as she tilted her head back and cried out in both pleasure and pain, both sounds far too alike to be distinguishable.

It wasn't needed much more than a few more moments to send him over the edge after her as he finally let her go, the pent-up anger he had felt at her meek request ruining the rest of his fun. Nevertheless, it had worked, somewhat.

His frustration and previous rage had calmed, if just a little bit, and his ever so slightly faster breathing felt good, as did the few drops of perspiration, which were slowly cooling his hot skin. Nah, it hadn't been a waste, not really.

Again, the Sexta Espada pulled away from the harsh breathing Arrancar, reaching over to pull up his covers and carelessly kick the other's side, causing her to fall over to the hard floor in a heap, painfully and in a tangle of her own limbs, sweat, blood and tears. He turned on his back, hands behind his head and partially closed his eyes.

Reva remained where she fell, still trying to recover from the rough handling and control her own breathing, all the while trying to cope with the fact of having fallen on top of one of her worst wounds. She should have expected that, really. And after a few more moments of her silence and motionless, she flinched as she once again felt the monstrous reiatsu quickly rising.

"Oye, I don't want ya sleepin' anywhere near me. Just because I kicked ya out of the bed doesn't mean you can sleep on the floor. Get the hell out."

She should've expected that as well. With Aizen-dono, it was the same thing. Always the same thing for those as insignificant as her.

As he heard her scrambling to her feet towards the door and away from him, Grimmjaw felt his reiatsu levels fall to normal standards, his body relaxing further into the silk clothes covering the comfortable bed.

The last thing he heard before dozing off were her petite, almost soundless, footsteps as they faded away in the tiled floor.

BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH

Hurried footfalls, following the same pattern of dozens of others, headed towards one destination as the sounds of yells and spilled blood started to become a bit louder and the scent of the latter, more intense.

The Sexta Espada frowned to himself, hands shoved into the pockets of his hakama. He had been comfortably resting in his room before all this damn noise and disturbs of reiatsu woke him up. Seriously, it was probably a useless spat between two idiotic Arrancars who decided to wake up the whole of Las Noches during the ungodly hours of the morning.

Yet, the smell of blood was still in the air, urging him on, beckoning him closer. The teal-haired figure grinned darkly, his tongue licking his lips and running over sharp teeth leisurely. Maybe it wouldn't be such a waste of time. Just maybe…

…He'd kill the fucking bastards anyways if it was the other way around in the end.

Once he spotted a rather large group not so far away, as well as feeling the two surges of reiatsu close by now (and noticing both felt slightly familiar), Grimmjaw flared up his own reiatsu in warning, with a tad bit of irritation as well to let them all know he should not be ignored.

Like he was the plague, the crowd of weaklings immediately made way for him, the passage leading up to the very centre of the commotion. Calmly, unhurriedly, he walked up to the front.

Light blue eyes blinked.

Yamii, La Decima Espada, was livid, that was the first thing that came to mind. Blood swiftly seeped from cuts and wounds a bit all over him, staining his clothes and the tiled floor. A rather deep looking one, on his thigh, seemed to currently make him limp. His zanpakutou was drawn and pointing menacingly onwards to the much, much smaller Arrancar who was (stupidly enough) facing him.

And to his mild surprise, it was that same female Arrancar he himself had raped. _She's strong enough to cut through Yamii's hierro skin? Her reiatsu was ridiculous…_

She wasn't unscathed; her right cheek had a long gash and her left wrist looked like it held a nasty sprain to it. But comparing her to the other, she was in a much better state, that was obvious. _Reva, wasn't it?_

"You'll pay for that one, little girl!" the injured Espada shouted, the grip on his blade tightening, "Come on, move it! Move that pretty little ass of yours!"

Her mismatching eyes narrowed in response, "Damare!" giving a light kick to the floor to allow her the momentum she needed (then again, she was light to begin with, so it wasn't that surprising), she performed an almost impeccable sonido, parrying Yamii's brute force.

Shouts of "Kill her!!", "Kill him!", "She's/He's dead." and even some "She's good." mixed together in the hot, humid air of that room, blow after blow after blow thrown between a massive zanpakutou and a rather slender and much lighter one, among one or two Cero's, whenever there was the chance.

Reva gritted her teeth painfully tight as she tried in vain to force back the other, her zanpakutou perpendicular to his own, the blunt side of her blade pressed against her forearm as she used all her strength. The move was currently saving her from being chopped into two neat halves. At least for now, anyway. _If this keeps up, I'll be killed. He's stupid, but I thought he was even stupider._ Another blocked hit, then duck, _And I didn't know he actually controlled the reiatsu released into an attack._ A hiss as one blow made a cut on her right arm; _He has more experience… and an absurd quantity of reiatsu when compared to me. Kuso! My element of surprise is slowly becoming useless._

At that moment, her eyes trailed over to their "audience". Blood thirsty bastards as they were, surely waiting for more blood. And the three former Shinigami taichous shouldn't take much long to show up either due to the high density of reiatsu in the nearby area. _Fuck, this was supposed to be short and quick!!_ And then, her eyes caught a certain pair of teal coloured ones, much to her surprise.

Grimmjaw watched her on almost with disinterest, arms crossed over a broad chest in slight boredom. Once he noticed her staring, all the Sexta did was tilt his head to the side ever so slightly as if to say "I don't get what the fuck are you doing, but I honestly don't care either" and promptly turn his back on her, starting to leave. And during those short few seconds, it felt as if she could hear the footfalls his sandaled feet made on the floor like the first time she had sensed him, if it wasn't for all the ruckus of everyone around.

Right then, it clicked.

After some effort, she pulled away from the tight spot the much larger male had put her in. And to half of her spectators' surprise, she was a fraction too late in performing sonido again as two enormous arms wrapped around her petite frame with an almost crushing force from behind.

"Now you can't run, can ya?" she could almost feel his sick grin against her earlobe. Glad she didn't though, or maybe her plan would've been thrown out of the window by the intense need of running away and retching.

"Not my intention, Decima Espada." Reva managed to rasp out while tightening her hold on the hilt of her zanpakutou tenfold and adjusting its position. With a smooth, quick backwards movement of her wrist, she had it buried into the other's massive body.

A satisfied, twisted grin curved her lips as she felt the warm blood coating her fingers. Ichimaru would with no doubts be proud of her if he could see it.

The force restraining her disappeared then as Yamii fell to one knee. She stepped forward once or twice before turning around to look at him.

"You!! You filthy, little-" the female did not let him finish, twisting her blade while a few bones snapped at the pressure, and then taking it out. In a gracious, yet furious strike, she delivered a clean cut across his neck.

As her wide eyes took in the sight, tongue coming out to run over dry, smirking lips, she was reminded of the moment when she had locked stares with the teal eyed Arrancar. If he hadn't turned his back on her and walked away, she never would have thought of giving her back to the (now ex-) Decima so that she could have the upper hand in the fight once again.

She'll have to thank him for it, sooner or later, that was her conclusion as she walked towards Aizen's private quarters.

And she knew exactly how to do it as well. But in her own way. Whether he wanted it or not.

BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH

Her footsteps echoed in the quiet, relatively spacious room as she moved about to and fro, the former Espada's belongings long gone and replaced by her own, neat and more numerous when in comparison.

Her new clothes fit her form perfectly, hugging her curves in just the right way to do a bit more than just a mere suggestion of her figure and yet cover enough as not to spoil the surprise if it happened to be revealed.

Her hakama was just like everyone else's, though she wore it riding low on her curvy hips; her obi's knot rested sideways against one of them and its ends trailed down till half the length of her legs.

The hole below her collarbone was visible due to the sharp V-cut of her white haori, the collar itself lifted up to cover most of the sides of her neck. The material held itself together by two mere inches of clothe before it flared out again, leaving the smooth, flawless skin of her stomach visible as well. The back grazed the floor lightly almost as a makeshift cape. As for the sleeves, they were one or two inches longer than needed, so that only her fingertips were visible.

Just as she had requested it all.

A pleased, self-confident grin crossed her bow-shaped lips, causing her eyes to glint, while she leisurely walked out of her newly appointed rooms.

Aizen had seemed to be a bit surprised with the turn of events. Or so he had wanted her to think (who knew, it was hard to decide what went through the madman's mind).

But obviously, he had never considered such a weak creation as herself, a low-ranked Arrancar, would be able to kill one of his precious Espada, his elite. Oh no, no. She couldn't possibly have been masking her reiatsu all along, no. But maybe, just maybe, that was the reason why he accepted her as the new Decima Espada and tattooed the intricate, gothic-styled number into the skin of her right shin.

_Ah, well. Hope that was all there was to it. No consequences, right?_

Just as she had gotten out, another door close by opened, more hastily, carelessly, and closed. Looking at her right side, a few rooms ahead and closer to the mouth of the corridor that gave way to the circular hall where all Espada had their rooms installed in, the very object of her previous trail of thoughts exited his own quarters.

The chance presented itself, Reva realized with a half smirk. "Yo. Grimmjaw." It was finally a change to say their names with the ridiculous –sama or referring to them as the all mighty (insert number from one to ten here) Espada, the strongest of them all. A very good change at that.

Said Espada stopped in his tracks, frowning to himself at the lack of respect the other seemed to have, which reminded him of Ulquiorra's I'm-more-powerful-than-you-and-Aizen-sama's-favourite-Espada fucking attitude. Tch, just because **she** was an Espada now, it meant nothing. He wasn't like Yamii – _Idiot…_ - and despite her reiatsu not being so insignificant now, he was still stronger. Much stronger.

He turned on his heel to face her, furrowing light blue eyebrows. "Who the fuck do you think you are that ya think ya can speak to me as if I'm your equal, onna?"

Nothing more than onna, huh? It was her turn to frown. "We have the same position-"

"I'm La Sexta Espada." He growled out, eyes narrowing further more, "Doesn't sound the same as La Decima Espada." He simply turned his back on her yet again, resuming his previous walk.

But before he could finish his second step, she had blocked his path by performing a still improving sonido. His anger seemingly forgotten, the male smirked, "Judging by your behaviour, I'd say ya want to be fucked pretty badly right about now."

"Think of it as an… appreciation of sorts instead, Sexta." Taking a bold step forward, their chests were almost touching and her breathing whispered against his collarbone, "Thanks to you, I managed to defeat Yamii."

"Aa, that's nice." Despite her advances, his eyes were staring ahead, focusing on a point over her shoulder.

Her nose crinkled delicately, showing her displeasure at his reaction, or lack of it at that, "I could make you a favour, you know. Just with a slight change. You had your way with me before, so now-"

"Urusai." He muttered as if an after thought, interrupting her almost unconsciously. His irritation was also very clear in his tone. Damn the bloody woman to hell and back. "So what? Think I'll let ya take the lead? Tch. Try Nnoitora, if ya want." Another smirk was thrown her way. "Once he's done, ya can try what ya want with him. If you still have all your limbs with you, that is." For the third time, he walked away, with no interruptions this time, his sandals silent in the hallway.

Aizen had called a meeting.

Several hours later, long after the meeting had been adjourned, long after he had returned to his private quarters, Grimmjaw stared at the ceiling for some moments, ignoring for the time being the softly breathing Decima Espada from beside him, already asleep.

Maybe it hadn't been that bad.

Not the fact the onna had her way, fuck, not that (her plan hadn't come out as she had expected anyways, he reminded himself with a self-satisfied smirk). After all, Aizen held enough control over him as it was; he wasn't about to give the little part of it that he still had over to this one.

The slight change in their relationship. Not in that way either, bloody hell.

Just… The light understanding. Yeah, that had to be it.

And he had to admit. It was somewhat of a change not to listen to Reva's footfalls as they faded away in the dark.

Owari

_

* * *

_**Dark: C**orrected a few typos x) Maa, maa… I feel kinda… dirty xDD Sick, aren't I? Ah well, just wanted 2 take this out of my system. On the other hand, I kinda feel a bit proud of this as well n.n

Review? Onegai?


	2. Life in Death

**Summary: **Up till the moment the brat opened his mouth, Grimmjaw believed in his victory. Fuck, he had no reason not to in his released state, power flowing unrestrained through his veins and all around him. But Kurosaki had to speak of his own reasons to win the fight and had him lower his guard. God damn that Shinigami.

**Reason: **After seven wonderful reviews, plus eight Favourite Story's notifications and another great comment from a friend, I supposed I could let my imagination keep on flowing to let you all know how much I disliked the way the manga and the anime (**spoilers from here on out**) killed, but not killed Grimmjaw at the same time. One, they killed him from the moment when we saw the realisation of imminent defeat in La Sexta's eyes and had Ichigo lie him down in the sand, him not moving or, in the manga verse, when Noitora made his "grand entré". Two, they did not kill him, because his body did not disappear as hollows' do, neither in the anime or the manga. Then again, maybe it's because he's an Espada. Or maybe it's like I keep saying that _Grimmjaw is not dead_. Either way, do not destroy that hope of mine and enjoy x)

**Warnings: **Rated M for a reason. Includes mentions of rape, violence, blood and adult situations. It has spoilers up till episode 167 and respective chapter of the manga (which I don't remember now), so read at your own discretion.

**Additional note:** Some authors choose to write "Grimmjow", I know, but I'll stick to "Grimmjaw" for personal preference and because that was the first translation of his name I saw. And due to a few subtly placed details, I do believe this can only be placed in the manga verse (at least, I think I did a good job at trying to do so xP).

* * *

BLEACH

_**Life in Death  
**_  
BLEACH

One dainty foot was placed upon the sandy ground, so gently, so softly, so carefully that the dust the motion caused was not visible to the naked eye. It was followed by its twin and the same action was repeated.

A couple of feet above, a slender, partially covered hand rested on crumbling stone, tempting at first, last thing it wanted was for said stone to fall and alert whoever was there to its presence, but luckily, it stayed in its place.

The being those limbs belonged to let out a few tendrils of reiatsu out, probing, tasting, searching, wondering if someone was still there, just like a serpent would. It found a few readings, yes, beyond the waves of extremely powerful blows and attacks and defences and mere contact between two high levelled foes that had brought it there in the first place and that could still be felt.

They were moving away. And were occupied nonetheless.

While finding it fairly safe to come out of hiding visually, Reva kept a tight hold on her reiatsu levels, keeping it as low as she possibly could manage. And even so, as she approached the fallen Espada in the middle of all the devastation, she kept her mismatched eyes on the barely discernible figures' backs as they went on their tasks, whatever those might've been.

Her small footsteps made a bee-line up till the lone prone frame, seemingly surrounded by as much sand as it were by blood. Taking a quick glance at the motionless body, neither the blood, nor the differences in his anatomy were enough to make her doubt her judgement and intuition from the moment she had felt the beginning of this particular fight.

That this still corpse, cut and bruised and fading rather quickly, was without a doubt la Sexta Espada, Grimmjaw Jaggerjack.

Former Sexta Espada, perhaps?

By his reiatsu, there was no way for Reva to know. Despite being rather versatile and talented when it came to analysing, hiding and reading the spirit power of a living being (she had passed most of her life as an Arrancar hiding her true potential after all), there were still too many waves in the surrounding air, the particles still vibrating insistently with the sheer amount of power that had been released in such concentrated releases, in such short time and in such a secluded space.

Like a high sound wave that still left the eardrums vibrating long, long after fading away.

Not to mention that, even at such close range, she did not feel that usual suffocating, looming threat coming from the teal haired Arrancar as she usually always did.

That meant his senses were not aware of another's presence nearby.

Meant he was off guard.

And that was not something Jaggerjack would ever do. Ever. Because everyone here knew the risks of that ever happening.

There were very, very few who lived to make up for that mistake after all, since it never happened twice to the same hollow. Menos. Gillian. Adjuchas. Vasto Lorde. Arrancar. Fracción. Privaron Espada. Espada. Never.

Reva kneeled just beside him, finally looking away from the intruders and locking her hues on the potential danger her "fellow companion"'s claws and fangs presented.

Her lips were placed just above his, less than an inch, less than a quarter of an inch away from his. And she paused. She waited.

One… Two… Three seconds passed.

Her eyelids closed just a little, but her perception around their environment was still her top priority.

Four.

Lips parted, just a little. Ever so little.

Five.

_So this is it?_

Six.

Her eyes snapped wide open. Yes. Yes, she had felt the lightest of breaths upon her lips.

_Ah. So the bastard is still alive? Kinda disappointing, Sexta, if you'd go down by such a cheap blow. I'm glad you didn't._Allowing a thin smile to curve her bow shaped lips upwards, she would've found it extremely ironic if she had seen the way her own self grabbed a hold of the dethroned king's wrist, since it resembled the way Grimmjaw himself had hauled her up from her place by Aizen's door.

But since she took the care to wait for the opportune moment, nobody, either it be Shinigami, Arrancar or anything in-between, saw the footsteps drawn onto the sand, nor did they associate that the dragging marks beside them belonged to anything or anyone, halfway dead or not. Just the wind.

And the wind, sole comprehensive thing in Hueco Mundo (and therefore Las Noches) and witness, tenderly wiped that evidence away as well.

BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH

One clear, vivid blue eye opened.

In reaction, the ebony coloured pupil contracted immediately and pain flared up in his mind, heavy enough to cloud most of his thoughts.

But one insistently kept sending orders to his nerve endings to move their tiny, microscopic asses into action so that his arms could come up, one to shield his hues and the other to massage an aching temple.

However, it didn't turn out as expected.

Last time he had checked, he no longer had a muzzle. Or paws. Or a tail either.

Forcing his pained eyes open once again, Grimmjaw took in the sight that greeted him and tried to understand exactly what had happened.

Sand.

White sand everywhere.

And a never ending pitch-black sky above. With no moon.

Why his eyes had acted as if there was a huge light source right in front of them was beyond him, but it seemed to be gone now.

Onto the next, equally important part: why the **bloody **_**fuck **_was he in his Adjuchas appearance again!?

_"Don't think too much. That has never been your forte."_

Startled, confused and not having gathered his bearings yet, his feline body tried to hastily get up, but all it managed was to raise him a few inches above the ground with his forelegs wearily keeping him up. Nevertheless, his eyes searched for the source of the voice. _"Who's there?"_

A chuckle was his first response. _"Calm down. I won't attack you. Or you, me. It's physically impossible." _

Regaining some of his strength, the guarded panther still looked around, now sitting down on his hind legs. Careless to his posture to show confidence, his tail showed his immense annoyance and anger towards this situation; the very tip twitched constantly, restless.

Grimmjaw was never one to analyse many things in battle fields. The potential on an opponent, the amusement he'd get, the differences in reiatsu and strength, speed, agility… He didn't consider them as analysing, for they were second nature to him.

Analysing the techniques, guessing how the opponent would attack and defend, how the battle was faring and on and on were things he left for other Espada. Those things took away the fun in fighting for the adrenaline of sating one's pure bloodlust.

But being dropped in a sudden place such as this, waking in a form he was very familiar with but hadn't for quite some time and all of it right after fighting that Shinigami, a fight to the death.. It all left him careful of his next steps, something he rarely did, for he opted for merely acting.

_"No answer?" _the voice cajoled again. _"Well, I meant it. We can't fight here. This is neutral land, so to say. But if it soothes you, you have the advantage."_

Pulling back his lips, he snarled. _"Show yourself and we shall see."_

_"I'm telling you, you cannot. But whatever you say… Sexta."_ The title actually made his taut muscles relax ever so lightly, but his posture did not change.

His ear twitched as it caught the sounds of footfalls in the sand. Two pairs. But too synchronized to belong to two people. And they were synchronized in a way he quite recognized.

Whoever that was, it was a four-legged creature as well.

And sure enough, it was. It appeared in front of him, in a light trot, snowy white, then slowed down before completely coming to a stop several meters away from him not even two seconds after he started growling at its quick approach. Something at the back of his head told him this being had been the one responsible for the abuse of light his eyes had suffered at first.

It lowered its head and whined softly, calmly, before letting its own forelegs drop to the ground, its lithe body eventually following, so that its hind legs were tucked close to it and front ones stretched out, muzzle in between them. Somewhere behind it, a tail slowly moved, lazily. It reminded him of a wolf, despite it clearly being a hollow.

Grimmjaw found he didn't truly feel like pouncing and getting into a fight with it. Whether that was what it had meant when it said they would not fight, he didn't know, but that was what his instincts said.

_"Where are we?" _

Big eyes blinked at him. From this far, they looked greyish. Or maybe they were green. Didn't matter. _"You truly don't know? Well… This place.. you aren't actually here, you see." _But before he had a chance to retort, it went on, _"This is your mind. You're inside it. Seems like it's the first time you're here then. It happens when your subconscious calls out to your conscious self. A… trance-like state."_

Not liking where this was headed at all and despite not trusting the predator facing him, cerulean eyes still looked around them once again. But it didn't change anything. All they saw was sand. And the black velvet sky. _"Then why-"_

_"-are you here? That has a thousand explanations and you aren't the first hollow to whom this happened."_ The wolf's muzzle did its best try at a smile. _"Nor will you be the last. But by the circumstances, I'd say you're more dead than alive. Your body, I mean."_

His pupils contracted to a mere slit, though not because of too much light this time.

_So… Kurosaki Ichigo.. you did it? _He racked his brain to pull up that fight, to revive it, check if it was true, what had happened. Then, the flash of a blade crossed through his mind. _No. That fucking bastard Noitora… Tch!_

In a flash he was on his feet and racing in the wolf's direction, rage in his eyes, his reiatsu singing for blood. _"It can't be! I refuse to die in such a way!! Not before I feel that Shinigami's last breath fading, his wounds stop bleeding, his reiatsu lowering, by my hands, all by my hands!" _his jaws opened and closed in a vice-like grip,_ "Not Noitora's, not Ulquiorra's, but mine! That human's life is __**mine**__!"_

However, much to his surprise, he caught naught.

Looking up, blinking, he saw the wolf sitting there, tail neatly placed over its paws. _"It's really none of my business whether you feel like fighting or not, but believe me, you can't hurt me here. Because I'm not even here."_ Another chuckle. _"Guess I'm something you came up with to talk. Quite touching that you chose me though, Sexta Espada, Grimmjaw Jaggerjack." _Its eyes, one blue and one green twinkled merrily.

Quite suddenly, a rumble started to be heard, subtle, but growing.

The she wolf glanced up, ears perked up. The delicate, tiny nose sniffed the air once, then twice. _"I think it's time for you to go."_

_"For me to die, you mean?"_ once again standing up, Grimmjaw found a portion of smugness at realising he was taller. _"Already told ya I wouldn't, not like that! I'm still not-"_

Patiently, she interrupted him. _"That, Grimmjaw, depends on you, not me."_

BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH

One clear, vivid blue eye opened.

In reaction, the ebony coloured pupil contracted immediately and pain flared up in his mind, heavy enough to cloud most of his thoughts.

But one insistently kept sending orders to his nerve endings to move their tiny, microscopic asses into action so that his arms could come up, one to shield his hues and the other to-

Fuckin' dejá-vù.

However, this time, Grimmjaw was relieved when a cool forearm was placed over his forehead and eyes, and his free hand rose to rub at his temple.

Reopening his eyes slower this time, the blue eyed Espada took in his surroundings. Black and white. Tall ceiling. A mirror here. A wardrobe there. Not his room, but clearly another Espada's. And slowly, like a tempest slowly mounting, the pain set in.

He could not really say which wound was worst, since he ached all over. It wasn't a new feeling, nor the first time it happened, but it never failed to make him wonder at the intensity of it all.

"Are you awake now?"

His eyes snapped open yet again.

And his senses took in the rest that they should've taken in before.

Like the hand in his hair. And the body right behind his. And the lack of his zanpakutou by his waist; the corner of his eye letting him know it was in the table in front of him.

It happened very fast.

Reva hissed painfully as a strong elbow dug into her midriff, making her wrap her hands around it and helplessly gasp for a breath that was just not there. Consequently, and due to some other unknown push by another unseen limb, she was pushed out of the mattress even more ruthlessly and slid across the room's floor, harshly, unforgiving.

Coming to a stop a few meters away, she manoeuvred her body so that she landed in a kneeling position, one hand in front of her and splayed on the ivory tiles. Her free one stayed behind her back, in position, in case she needed to invoke a Cero. "The fuck's your problem, Sexta?!" her voice was still a bit breathless.

Said Arrancar did not respond. Didn't give her the time to do anything else either before tackling her. Despite the fact that she had told herself that she had been ready for it, she hadn't been. Her half-formed Cero had been quickly crushed and she only noticed so seconds later after attempting to release it. Here, now, underneath him, helpless, she could do little other than gasp and groan as quietly as possible when he let one fist fly into her midsection, the already sore spot now screaming.

Then she was being held by her neck and, like dejá-vù, those unconscious thoughts of needing to be free from that grip crept around the rim of her thoughts, leaving her near the edge of breaking down for the second time in front of this man in the exact same circumstances.

Yet, this time, she managed to hold onto some few shreds of sanity left and get a good grasp of his wrist, glaring into his not-quite-focused almost-too-blue eyes.

That seemed to allow his mind to recognize her. With his eyebrows furrowed, he nonchalantly let go of her and turned around, ignoring the way she wobbled for a moment, then regained her balance. "Oye!" Again, he said nothing. All he did was send her a dirty look over one shoulder while walking towards the small table. Calmly, he retrieved Pantera, slipping the sheath through his belt and ignoring, for the time being, the fact his hakama were severely ripped and his jacket was no where in sight.

"Why did you go out of your way, onna? To drag me back here?"

"Do itashimashite." She huffed, still rubbing her stomach tenderly. It would be bruised for a long time, she was sure. Reva was now careful to keep some distance between them. Given his sudden actions and now tamed anger, she at least supposed that was the reason behind his animosity. "You'd die if you stayed there for much longer. I had you looked at, your wounds cleaned and wrapped. Afterwards, I even let you use my bed. You had yet to awaken and I seriously doubted someone would let the chance of slitting your throat while you slept go just like that."

Inconspicuously, Grimmjaw changed his stare to his frame. Indeed, the most severe wounds were wrapped in clean bandages and he did not seem to be bleeding. Yet. Some of them were aching quite a lot; it was obvious his sudden movements and use of Sonido would do him no good in such a state.

But really, to realize there was someone pressed to his back like that – and without his notice too – only served to feed his paranoia. After all, Espada were constant targets of several Arrancar. Everyone wanted those ten positions of prestige. There was no room for trustfulness, to put it simply.

Turning his attention back to the female in front of him, he still frowned in distrust. "And ya expect me to believe you did it all as a proof of your good will?"

Now she actually smirked a little. "No." she took a few steps towards him, quickly stopping when his hand rested over the hilt of his sword. "But all the help is little."

"Nani?"

"You're one of the few Espada that plainly lets Aizen know he's not as respected as he thinks he is." Her smirk evolved to a little grin. "We have that in common. And, as such, I consider you a good ally to that cause."

In a movement far too fast to follow with the eyes, Pantera was levelled with her throat; Reva could feel the delicate waves of reiatsu flowing from its sharp, glinting edge. "I want nothing to do with that. Tch." He turned so that his profile faced her. "There are little things I care for. My number. My blade. My power. My enemies. Those conspiracies don't interest me, onna."

"I'm not asking you to be a part of it. But you'd be free." Her curious, different eyes glinted and his thoughts whirled to a stop.

His zanpakutou dropped to his side, even if he was still very much on-guard. That did interest him, despite his own words.

"Never mind though. Right now, it doesn't matter. It's not the time yet; the opportune moment has yet to come." After another meaningful look, she left him, headed to the bed again. "And looking out for you is looking out for myself at this point. Don't worry, if it wasn't for my little plan, I would've let you die like a weakling, just bleeding to death."

Not a second later, the sound of clashing steel echoed in the room as blades grinded against each other. One of her feet slipped and her position turned rather precarious.

After all, there she was with her upper body half leaning into his, her back to his chest, her own zanpakutou perpendicular to his, which had come pretty close to the unprotected skin of her neck.

"Do not compare me to a low level hollow, woman." His words were quiet and very dangerous.

Her free hand rose and supported her blade, balancing the odds a little more, even if he still just used his right hand. "Truth hurts, Jaggerjack." It was playing with fire, she knew, but she didn't care. Damn his pride. Either way, he could kill her with a single move with her like this if he so wished, what was the point?

And it was with a bit of amusement that she somehow managed to dodge and observed the rather big hole his Cero did onto her wall.

Zanpakutous clashed a few more times, more blows were exchanged and Reva was lucky to come out merely bruised and with a long scratch over the right cheek, horizontal, a nick done by the very tip of Pantera.

"Aizen probably has another meeting scheduled soon enough." Her fellow Espada grinned down at her panting self. His tongue swept the edge of his blade, cleaning her blood from it. "I'll be in my room. Let me know when that is… Reva."

BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH

She didn't bother with knocking; Reva knew la Sexta Espada had noticed her presence ever since she had exited her private rooms and was now entering his. Even if he was sleeping or showering or just plainly resting.

She had been right.

As soon as her footsteps quietened against the floor and her eyes glanced at the bed, the bed where everything had started really, his eyes were on her.

At least, that first fight that had taken place before wouldn't happen this time.

"You were right. A meeting will take place shortly."

The male got up at that, languidly, slowly. But she knew better. She knew it was his wounds that were slowing him down. The light frown upon his features also spoke just how much he enjoyed the current situation. As he passed by, she took the chance to place a hand carefully over his shoulder.

Reva moved slowly, as if she were approaching an unpredictable, dangerous predator. In a way, she was. She stood on her tip toes and caught his lips in hers.

She wasn't sure why she did it. Neither was he. Though neither complained when lips parted, tongues played forcefully in a show of dominance and teeth bit, nipped and clashed together.

The next thing the dark haired Espada noticed was the coolness of the closest wall against her back and the way the back of her head landed against it roughly. His hands were quick to find the thin zipper upon her upper vest to have an unrestricted access to her front, even quicker to roam her heating skin, over her shoulder blades, the gentle curve of her waist, her chest, all the while leaving behind reddened skin here and there.

Not that she cared at that moment. All she focused on was his mouth, their duelling and his touch.

Her lips left his then, trailing the strong, unyielding line of his jaw and she boldly nipped at the skin of his neck, listening with no small amount of pride the low growl of approval that escaped past his lips.

But then his subdued demeanour was pushed aside and her eyesight focused on white, white walls when he turned her body around, making her let out the faintest gasp. Said small sound turned into a low moan when the larger male pressed himself against her fragile-looking figure.

The next few sounds were the rustling of clothes, which lasted for a few short seconds, until his demanding hands found their way back to her curvy hips, dug into the skin with enough force to make her wince and leave bruises behind and then they turned her back around.

Their mouths met again for another primal, ferocious kiss and the fact that he could now taste the coppery, metallic rich flavour of blood made it all the more alluring to Grimmjaw. He did not know if the blood was his or hers, even if he calculated (at the back of his mind) that it was there due to the way they violently kissed, but that was about it.

One hand trailed down her side, fingertips barely grazing the outer side of her left breast in a rare, gentle caress, its goal the back of her knee. That faint, barely-there touch earned him an interesting reaction, a shudder, which he did not know for sure if it was from pleasure or repulse, like it had been that first time, but by the breathy pants that feathered the skin of his collarbone, he had an idea of which.

As soon as his long fingers curled over the back of her knee, she immediately lifted that leg, allowing her smooth skin to brush against his hip and her foot, left to dangle, to wrap around his own leg.

Grimmjaw did not need another invitation. Not that he'd ask her permission in the first place – they both knew he didn't and his reiatsu, clashing against hers and oppressing her, in a way, reminded her of such fact – but it did urge him to be faster in his actions.

His blood singing with adrenaline and carnal lust, the teal-eyed Espada fisted her midnight coloured hair with one hand, his free one supporting her around the waist. Just as the female lifted her supple body a little for adjustment and a better position, he entered her in one quick thrust.

The sudden move made her wince and hiss out her displeasure, her muscles tense and the pain to increase. In return, those exact unconscious reactions of her body pulled out a quiet groan from the male (as she knew would happen; men were all the same and this particular one – such as Aizen – revelled in the pain of others) and as the hand on her hair left and trailed down, to join the other, most likely, and move her, Reva decided it was best to give in yet again.

Not that she wanted to. In their few, short encounters, it had not yet changed; he was always the one in control and the sole time when she really tried to turn that around, she had regretted it and came out of it with a broken arm. Not the kind of experience she wanted to experience again.

What she'd do left her feeling very vulnerable, but what choice did she have in the matter? Little next to none. Therefore, it would be on their best interest to let him have his way with her and, perhaps next time, when he was calmer and not so riled up with his loss to that human scum, maybe she'd try her luck again.

Maybe.

As it were, she pulled up her other leg, now having both wrapped around his narrow waist and trusting him to hold her self up and against the wall. She could do that, since it would be for the best for him as well.

And true to her line of thought, Grimmjaw did so. He did not let her adjust anymore than those little short seconds it took her to pull up her leg and that it took him to let his hand join the one at her waist. Right next to that, he resumed his pace – always faithful to his nature, to the point, rough, careless –, thrusting into her and not holding back, not caring that that first harsh shove was the origin of the loud _thud_ that echoed in the room, which had been the sound of her head hitting the wall yet again.

Conscious of that, Reva leaned in and opted to rest her left temple to his right one, both her dainty hands grasping his broad shoulders for support and for something to clutch whenever one of his moves hit a particularly sweet spot or if a pinprick of pain flourished.

The latter happened more often than the former during the first few moments of each of their trysts. Much to her annoyance, after that, she could not say which happened more often.

Usually, Grimmjaw would immediately growl at her for daring to be so close to him. Such closeness during such a moment could mean that she could use the chance to injure him somehow; the pressing of his bandages reminded him that it would really be too easy for her to do that right now.

But for some reason, the growl did not see the light of day.

Perhaps it was because Reva felt the conflict at the back of his mind and moved her hands, letting them absently knead the muscles of his shoulder blades. Perhaps not.

Still, he did not warn her to pull away this time.

And, perhaps, it had all started with an impulsive action on her part, but seemingly, it left him on a better mood.

"This doesn't end here, onna." The words were growled at her ear. Indeed, it would certainly not end here; but they had that meeting to attend to now. "But next time," she hissed painfully when one hand dug into her left hip and the other squeezed her right breast, "I won't just let you throw yourself at me like that. What I want, I take it. But if you feel like it, I won't give in to you."

Reva knew enough to take it as her first and only warning.

Nevertheless, it had felt good when she had done it. It gave her a sense of power.

Of freedom.

Maybe it was the same feeling he had felt when he had his way with her that first time and while he listened to her footfalls fade.

And if it was, well, she couldn't really blade him. It was addictive.

_Owari_

* * *

**Vocabulary:**  
**Do itashimashite:** You're welcome.  
**Nani:** What.  
**Onegai:** Please.  
**Onna:** Woman.  
**Owari:** The end.

**Dark: **Same level as the previous chapter or not really? Do share your ideas with me, onegai :D Hope I didn't confuse many people with a certain scene too, but it had been on my mind to write it down, so I took the chance to do it. By the way, any ideas as to who the "wolf" actually is? n.n


End file.
